Cascade of Cards
by BetweenDreamsAndReality
Summary: Alfred and Arthur learn that they have inherited the thrones of Spades. The only problem: the rulers are forbidden to love another. Cardverse AU. Main pairings: UsUk. ON TEMPORARY HIATUS!
1. Prologue: Emerald

**Welcome darlings to my new Cardverse fanfiction!**

**Sorry that I'm not updating my others, I just want to upload all of my ideas before classes restart :P**

**There's really not much to say at the moment except that I hope you enjoy~**

**BetweenDreamsAndReality proudly presents: Cascade of Cards**

**Warnings: None.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia.**

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Alfred scribbled scratchy lines turning the blank piece of parchment into a work of art senselessly. Currently, he was propped up on one of the stone benches, pink tongue slightly sticking out of his poised lips for concentration, and attempted to finish his sketch of the royal garden.

It was a gorgeous orchard, not the largest in all of the land, yet reasonably grand. A small fountain sat in the middle along with a weeping willow tree bearing golden clocks all waiting to be harvested only by the Queen of Spades. Beds of blue flowers, the official color of the Spade kingdom and royalty, encompassed the bench Alfred sat working feverously to finish his quote-unquote masterpiece.

But the thing he loved the most about it, was its freedom.

Sure the castle was nice and all, nice being an understatement, but not having to spend five extensive and tedious days contained to its stoned walls was what Alfred desired. Today was the first free time he had in days since the Diamonds' deck came for an uninvited visit and, frankly, he missed the sun beating on his pale cheeks and the serene sounds of the wildlife chirping around him.

Instead, he heard another sound; a foreign sound. Something that sounded like light footsteps of a lost passerby. That was very uncommon for Alfred as he was confined to the castle as if he was delicate glass or gem that would break with a mere touch.

"That's pretty good," an accented voice said behind Alfred, startling him onto the cobblestone ground. He chuckled and apologized "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He held out a pale hand to help Alfred return to his feet.

He was obviously not a servant due to his unrecognizable face but he was not a peasant or traveler either obvious by the fabric of his emerald tunic.

"Why are you here? You know you should not be trespassing," he said trying to sound strong and stern like his father but ended up in a voice more horse and shaky.

He snorted and rolled his strikingly green eyes. "And who are you to tell me what I can and can't do, my mother?" The stranger scanned the young blue eyed blonde twice and retorted "you're dressed like her, at least."

Alfred scowled and stood up without the mysterious stranger's help. He wiped the dirt of the clothes he was garbed in from this morning's lessons consisting of a silk blue tunic tucked into his brown trousers with his ink stained fingers. The maids were certainly going to have a fit when they see his clothes all muddy again.

"Where are my manners? Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland," he held out his hand for Alfred to shake.

He shook Arthur's petite hand and asked with curiosity "_you're_ a _Kirkland_?"

Arthur nodded in response, a bit lost for words. The Kirklands were well known across Spades, possibly the other three kingdoms, for being powerful wizards and wealthy nobles as well.

"I didn't know they had a son," he stated remembering the few encounters he had at some of the royal parties which usually consisted of gawking over how mature Alfred was looking lately. "You must be a very powerful magician and that must explain your hideous eyebrows."

"We prefer the term 'conjuror' and not yet," he admitted looking down at his black suede shoes. "And my eyebrows are not _that_ large!" he shouted shielding his untamed eyebrows from the young flaxen blonde obviously receiving that comment more often than not.

"Whatever," he said and waved his hand in the fresh air of springtime.

"I'm seventeen, so I've got plenty of time." He shook his head allowing his wiry blonde strands to fall in front of his emerald orbs. "Enough about my silly rubbish, what about you?"

Alfred shrugged. "I'm…Matthew! Matthew Williams!" he said choosing the name of his favorite servant instead of his real one. He couldn't let anyone, especially a 'conjuror', know that he was the crown Prince of Spades. What if he used his magic to kill the heir? Anyways, he would never find out since they would probably never encounter each other face to face again. "I'm a servant here at the castle for Prince Alfred."

"You're very well dressed for a servant," he noted seeing as, even being a noble, his clothes were not nearly as fancy as Alfred's. His emerald green tunic and black trousers were no match for the gold laced clothes Alfred was forced into. "And very young as well."

He scratched the back of his neck. "The King took me in after my parents died," he lied hoping Arthur wouldn't catch on to his lie.

He nodded picking up the sketch book. "And you're also an artist?"

A light pink blush tinted his sun kissed cheeks. "Not really. It was just a sketch, really."

Arthur began flipping through the pages of the book, each drawing as beautiful as the last. "What about this one?" he asked stopping at the picture of a spade shaped clock blotted in dark ink.

"I dunno." He shrugged and gazed down at the picture he drew this morning. "Saw it in a dream or something."

Arthur's lips pursed together in thought. "Interesting," he said with a smirk and looked up at the position of the sun. He slammed the black book shut and gasped "oh my, it is getting late. Nice to see you Matthew."

Alfred could only smile back watching the green eyed blonde disappear into the dark green hues of the forest.

* * *

"Am I done with my studies yet?" Alfred asked his father fidgeting in his blue padded chair. The two were in a study connected to the King's antechamber primarily used for signing important documents and other royal tasks. The study itself was spacious with a shelf of books lined against the south wall and two mahogany desks aligned to the west. Hanging on the high reaching cobblestone wall was a realistic, almost lifelike, landscape of the Spades castle dating from the beginnings of the kingdom.

Alfred's father, George, sighed and placed his strong palm on his son's shoulder. George was an influential and valiant King beloved by all of his citizens. His eyes were the color of dusk on a summer evening framed in circular gray wired glasses. His maize colored hair, slightly greying from age, harmonized perfectly with the gold crown kneaded into his tresses. "You have so much more potential than wasting your time drawing pictures of the garden."

Alfred pouted crossing his arms over his chest crushing the blue vest and white cravat he sported with his sheer strength. "It's not a waste of time!"

After the encounter with Arthur, he had been eager to return to the garden in hopes his mysterious friend would return. During his studies, the thought of seeing Arthur again contaminated his once studious mind. Alfred wanted to memorize every curve of his scowling lips and every hair above his twinkling jade eyes.

He placed a hand on his hip managing to wrinkle his royal blue garments a bit. "Whilst drawing you could be studying."

Alfred blew a stray strand of golden hair out of his sapphire eyes.

His father folded himself in the extra chair and sighed. "You're almost of age, Al."

He rolled his eyes. _Here we go again,_ he thought mutely.

"And if you want the power of ruling an entire kingdom, you have to accept your responsibilities," he said taking the gold crown out of his silk wheat blonde curls and placed it into Alfred's.

Alfred looked at himself in the mirror placed in front of him. Something seemed off, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

"What a fine king you will make," he said confidently staring at his son with intrigued indigo irises.

He slumped back into his desk chair and rolled his eyes. "Great." He instantaneously took off the sapphire studded crown and situated it gently on the wooden desk. His eyes glazed over watching his reflection in the gold.

"Milord," a young servant said shakily after knocking twice on the open wooden door. He was overall lanky and had scraggily shoulder length brown hair to match his anxious personality.

"Yes, Toris? Is something wrong?"

"You are needed in the throne room. The deck wants you to sign something," he explained. Although he hailed from the Clubs kingdom, he was the King's loyal personal advisor.

The King nodded and messily placed the crown back on the top of his head in haste. "Of course Toris. Come along Alfred." He pushed the blue padded seat out and escorted Toris to the throne room.

Alfred smirked crookedly and did the same, except for the fact that he took a sharp left for the garden, not the throne room.

"Looks like you can't resist my charm," Alfred teased with a small giggle noticing Arthur was already waiting in the garden for him; although it was quite the opposite. Alfred was infatuated, almost intoxicated, by Arthur.

He was sitting on the bench where the two first met only days ago and plucked petals from one of the blue roses found only in this specific garden. His emerald gaze looked up at the young King's toothy grin and adverted his eyes quite flustered. "Well…I, err," he stuttered with a pink blush growing on his ivory cheeks. "How is your art coming along?"

Alfred slumped onto the bench beside the conjuror. He exhaled and replied "terribly. My tutor thinks it is a waste of time and I should be spending my time on more important things."

"Like what…?" Arthur asked leaning closer to Alfred, their pale skin brushing against each other.

Alfred shook his head allowing his mid length hair of fall in front of his blue orbs. He stood up and stated firmly "we shouldn't be doing this. What if someone catches you?"

He waved his hand and stood beside Alfred, only a few centimeters taller than the other. "They won't."

Alfred narrowed his eyes into small slits wanting to protect his new, and only, friend from the wrath of the royals. He didn't even want to think how his father would react knowing he met a stranger. "How can you be so sure?"

Whilst his eyes were shut, he began chanting foreign words. His voice smooth and dark as he continued reciting. His emerald irises shot open and he announced "open your palm."

"Huh?" Alfred asked uncurling his fingers to see a real spade shaped golden clock ticking to the beat of his heart. It reflected the sun's glistening glow as he twisted its face by the chain.

Almost out of nowhere, Arthur pecked the Prince's cheek.

Alfred wiped off the spit with the back of his palm. "Ew, Artie dude, that's gross."

"It was a thank you," he deadpanned with a scowl. "And it's Arthur!" he fumed hating the childish nickname of Artie. It made him sound like a lower peasant or servant instead of a well-mannered Kirkland.

"Sorry, Art_hur_. You could've at least said something," he answered with a pout locking his arms in front of his torso. In his defense, he was only thirteen and this was definitely not something he was interested in, yet. However, he felt his heart flutter and his face fluster as his mind begged for more.

"Cheer up lad," he said lifting the younger boy's chin and brushed his lips against his own.

When the blue eyed blonde opened his eyes, Arthur was gone leaving him only with the savor of his lips lingering on his breath and the spade shaped clock.

Alfred knew this feeling he would one day regret, for a royal can never love another.

_TBC?_

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**A/N: *shrugs* I'm not too sure that I like this cardverse fic so much, it is definitely not as complex as my other yet is overall cliche and overused. *sighs***

**In case you didn't catch the ages: Arthur=17, Alfred=13 and on a side-note George=48**

**George is an OC and is definitely not going to be a major character in the story actually I think, if I end up continuing, this chapter may be his only appearance. I took the name George from George Washington; one of America's "founding ****_FATHERS_****." HAHAHAHA I'm clever :)**

**This is just prologue btw so chapters will be longer.**

**I was going to make all of the chapters names of card games but I couldn't find any that matches this chapter in specific so I threw away that idea. Urg. Instead, they are named after colours. Yeah for colours~**

**Please vote on my profile for which Disney movie I should use as inspiration for an aph fic 3**

**Also the image does not, in any way, belong to me. Picture belongs to shachaai on tumblr. However, I could not find the original post and instead found a link on deviantart. Sorry :( Link: SpadesValiantAce . deviantart art / Discovery - 291975624? q = meta%3Aall + boost%3Apopular = Cardverse & qo = 444 & catpath = & order = 0 & offset = 444**

**Please leave me a review to know if I should continue...**


	2. Chapter 1: Aquamarine

**Remember this story? **

***shamelessly avoids a tomato***

**Well I've had a lot of work and crap and applications...**

**I am really sorry.**

**I really am.**

**So I hope you enjoy this filler chapter~**

**Warnings: Fluff.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia.**

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"No, no, you have got it all wrong!" Alfred exclaimed in frustration. The passage of two years had been visible on the Prince's growing physique, changing from a seed into a budding flower. His body was well-built for his age as his torso was beginning to exchange his baby-fat for defined muscles which filled out his violet waist coat. His jawline was more distinct than before, but not quite angular yet and his cheekbones were still hidden under his unripe cheeks. Spectacles engulfed his aquamarine eyes which glared at the quote-unquote creation Arthur scribbled on the page.

The thick ink blotted lines formed - what was supposed to be Alfred's head - into an abstract piece of art. The basic shapes were lopsided, his brush strokes were messy, not to mention his inability to take into account fine details. Even after almost two years of practice with Alfred, the conjuror still lacked basic art skills.

Although Arthur's art skills did not improve, his appearance surely did. Over two years, his frame manifested from a scraggily body into a strong, well-built gentleman. His jaw was strong and concrete and his cheekbones were pronounced through his champagne colored skin. Oh, and his eyes, his absinthe eyes. They were like two beautiful gems that shamed the ones embossed into the Club kingdom's clothing.

Arthur scowled, his bushy eyebrows knitting together like embroidery. While his eyebrows remained untamed, if not messier than before, his platinum blond hair grew long enough for the tips to veil them, just barely. "Fine, _Mister Artist, _show me how to do it!" he exclaimed sarcastically. He shoved the parchment in Alfred's hands quite exasperated. Arthur's delicate hands were meant to perform magic spells, not to draw silly images. _That _was a true art, not scribbling pages of worthless pictures. What good would that be anyhow? It is not as if war could be handled with pictures, no, war was far more complicated.

"It is simple, really Artie."

"Arthur," he corrected in a monotone voice. He really could not tolerate the blue eyed blonde's nicknames. At least he was not calling him Iggy anymore. That was a phase he really did not want to relive, although he cannot fathom how Alfred came up with the nickname after a short trip to the kingdom of Hearts. "Really, Matthew, you should not be calling me such juvenile nicknames."

Alfred ignored his comment and focused on taking the parchment away from Arthur. Once the paper was securely in his lap, Alfred explained "first you make a circle." In one continuous light stroke, the blue eyed blond traced a circle on the page.

Arthur scowled at his perfection. Even if he tried, he could not fathom to create something so perfect, let alone in such a short period of time. His transformation circles were not even as perfectly symmetrical as his.

"Now you try it," Alfred said, breaking Arthur out of his daze with his wide smile. He held out the peacock feather quill which Arthur took with uncertainty.

"Like this?" Arthur asked hesitantly. His shaking hand manifested unconfident strokes that looked more like a rock than a concrete circle.

Alfred nodded yet placed his quill to the side of the stone bench. "More like this," he explained. He clutched Arthur's hand into his and mimicking the strokes to create an almost perfect circle. The fabric of his white-button down shirt crinkled against Arthur's green tunic, something his maids would have his head tonight; but in this moment he was far too preoccupied with Arthur.

"Really Matthew, I can do this myself," Arthur lied in an attempt to hide his pink tinted cheeks. Although Alfred was far younger than he was, and of 'servant status', Arthur could not help but to fall for his alluring charms.

Alfred rolled his powder blue eyes and chuckled. "Obviously you cannot."

Arthur pouted, his bottom lip pursing over his top. "Well you could hardly call yourself perfect," he snorted, quite frustrated to say the least.

"Yes, yes, but I have got you, don't I?" Alfred said, raising his eyebrows seductively.

"Do not be daft," Arthur exclaimed and swatted Alfred's hand away. "I could hardly be marred as perfect."

After a moment of silence, Alfred explained "but you can perform magic." The adolescent prince had always been envious of Arthur's powers and spent free time, when he was not with Arthur, studying magic.

"So?" the conjuror asked acidly. "'Tis but a curse."

"And you speak so poetically," Alfred said in a hushed tone, almost entranced by his vocabulary. The conjuror was like a dream, or a story-book character; Alfred could not consider a man could be so faultless unless he was fictional. But here Arthur was, sitting before Alfred more beautiful than a Queen on her coronation night.

Arthur rolled his forest green irises. "Does not everyone in the castle speak like this. Correct me if I am wrong, but the prince must speak eloquently."

Alfred stifled a laugh. "Uh…I suppose he does."

Arthur's eyes drifted towards the castle looming in the distance. Its four pillars and cobblestone walls stretched into the cyan sky. "What is it like in there?"

Alfred's mouth shaped an 'O' yet no words would dare escape his pink lips.

"It must be dreadfully boring being cooped up."

Alfred nodded and reiterated "sometimes, that is for certain. But I have you, don't I?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Sometimes you are so predictable."

"But you love me for that," Alfred said. He pecked Arthur's soft cheek leaving only a trickle of warmth on his lavender blush cheek before releasing.

"Mm," Arthur mused, practically gasping, begging, for more. His eyes drifted towards the clear deep blue sky, almost in a daze. He looked so peaceful, so serene, so in touch with nature. His eyes focused on the sun's position hanging quite low in the sky. "As much as I would love to stay in your embrace…"

"Oh," Alfred said noticing their bodies impeccably close; close enough to feel Arthur's warm body press against his. He immediately slinked away, dreading to make Arthur uncomfortable. "I see," Alfred said solemnly. He should be used to this, right? Arthur came and left on a daily basis, sometimes not showing up for a week. Why should today be any different?

"Tomorrow. I promise I will be back," Arthur said collecting himself and his belongings. He pecked Alfred's cheek and disappeared into the green miasma of the forest, leaving a blue rose plucked from its roots in his place.

Alfred brought his knees to his chest and sealed his arms around his legs. He exhaled deeply through his nose, breathing out only warm air and then pursed his bottom lip out.

"Your majesty, why are you out here all by yourself?" Matthew asked curiously, his head slightly tilted to the left. Matthew was Alfred's royal adviser who had been his companion since age ten as well as a distant cousin. Matthew's father was King George's cousin while his mother hailed from the kingdom of Diamonds, apparent by his appearance. His face had soft features to match his fair complexion and round face. A stray curl from his dirty-blond tresses fell in front of his violet eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of round, wired spectacles. Despite being a year older, Matthew was the same height as the prince, making them easily mistaken for each other.

Alfred sighed and twisted the blue tinted rose in between his middle finger and his pointer finger. Matthew noticed the prince was staring at it for quite a long time with a glazed over look.

The blue eyed blond finally shrugged and responded "just wanted to."

Matthew's eyes glanced from the Prince to the prickly rose. "You would think the Prince of Spades would have everything he ever wanted," he retorted.

Alfred snorted acerbically.

Matthew smiled and sat next to the blond on the edge of the fountain. It was a beautiful fountain, there was no denying that. The water was always crystalline, inviting those to dip their bony fingers into its pristine liquid. In the center was a stone statue of a winged woman, allegedly the first Queen of Spades. Her hands were held out and her eyes were fixed on the object. However, due to age, the object has withered away only to leave behind rubble remains of a beautiful object.

"So…who's been grabbing your attention?"

"N-No one!" Alfred shouted on impulse. His body visibly tensed and his eyes drifted to the sapphire colored rose once more.

Matthew lips curved into a sly grin. "Oh Al. I've known you for almost two years. I'm your best friend for Spade's sake! Now tell me about this babe," he pried and slapped Alfred's shoulder playfully, hoping to receive an answer.

"There's no one," Alfred said stubbornly. He puckered his bottom lip in a pout and crossed his arms firmly over his torso.

Matthew chuckled. "Al, really? We are practically brothers and you can't even tell me who you have been seeing for the past two years?"

"Yes."

Checkmate.

"So you have been seeing someone!" Matthew said. His grin now curled into a smug leer.

Alfred blushed, his cheeks turning a visible shade of cherry pink.

"I knew it! Now come on, give me a name," Matthew said and elbowed Alfred in the gut.

"None of your fucking business," Alfred muttered. He curled his lip to reveal is white canine tooth.

Matthew pouted playfully. "You're no fun," he teased and kicked a pebble with his black loafers.

Matthew's mood immediately softened when he noticed Alfred. His longing, turquoise eyes were altered somehow, virtually fearful. Matthew had never seen the once brave and cheerful Alfred's features so grim.

"Are you scared I'm going to tell your father?" Matthew asked sincerely. He would never dare betray Alfred, royal status or not; the two were best friends and Matthew was damn sure he would honor their companionship.

Alfred nodded, tears threatening to waterfall down his face in hot drips. Alfred could not remember when he had last cried, and it felt almost foreign to the young royal. He did not want to imagine the torture Arthur would endure if his father somehow found out.

_He would be sent to one of those asylums, _Alfred thought mutely. _He executed or tortured until death. I can't let Arthur be persecuted for my inanity. _

Matthew swallowed hard.

"You wouldn't tell him, right?" Alfred asked in a timid voice, as if he was five and just stole a cookie from the cookie jar.

"Eh? Al, as I said before: we are brothers! But I completely understand if you do not want to tell me."

Alfred nodded and bit his lip, managing to rip off a slice of dead skin. After a moment of tense silence, the Prince sighed and asked "What is like to love another?"

"Huh?" Matthew asked arching a golden eyebrow, as he was a bit taken back by the peculiar question.

"What is it like?" Alfred repeated in a begging, almost desperate, tone.

Matthew paused. Never was he asked what it was like to love, nevertheless thought about it; it was quite a peculiar question, indeed. He himself had never loved another, not yet at least. There were a few who caught his attention, but it was nothing more than a casual flirt or even a crush.

"Um…well…it is sort of unexplainable, I suppose," he mused, his eyes more focused on the garden than Alfred. "I have only read about it in literature."

Alfred slouched and exhaled. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

Matthew chuckled.

"It is different for everyone," Matthew explained wisely. "I just wish you the best of luck." With that, Matthew ruffled Alfred's hair and scurried off to return to his duties around the palace.

Alfred relaxed himself on the length of the fountain's edge. His sapphire orbs stared blankly at the late-summer sky. "I will need it," he said and twirled the rose between his fingers once more.

_TBC?_

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**A/N: *listens to Olympic fanfare because I can*****  
**

**In case you are keeping up with the ages: Arthur=19, Alfred=15 and Matthew=16.**

**I actually had this written up in early November but I forgot about it and 2012 was jfidaoufakd blah...**

**(Again I apologize)**

**And now to respond to my wonderful reviewers: **

**Nekosenpai: No, he does not know...yet. And thank you~**

**Yanelle: I'm sorry for the wait, but thank you for reviewing!**

**TeaConneussiorIggy: Thank you and I hope I can update more often!**

**Guest: Thank you so much! I will try~**

**Please please please leave me a review! **

******This was just a filler chapter of fluff for what is going to happen next chapter (If I ever getting around to writing that...)**


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